


only love can break your heart

by rosieeexox



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Falling In Love, Lots of it, Love/Hate, M/M, Sexual Tension, every cliche you could probably think of, lots of pining, some homophobic slurs once or twice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 07:08:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4091746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosieeexox/pseuds/rosieeexox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis needs to get to his friends wedding in dublin, harry offers to take him there. lots of sexual tension, a pretend marriage, some pining, a little bit of angst and, of course, a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only love can break your heart

**Author's Note:**

> loosely based off the plot of the movie leap year. 
> 
> title from the song by gwyneth herbert 
> 
> I wrote this in about seven hours and I'm currently posting it at nearly 5am so please excuse any mistakes, I'll correct them eventually/have someone beta this but right now I really just want to sleep 
> 
> enjoy!

Louis Tomlinson is never late. It's one of the things he prides himself on, actually. So the fact that he has currently found himself running through the airport in an attempt to not miss his flight is astounding. He tells the very annoyed flight attendant so as he boards the plane ten minutes before take off. 

"Cut it pretty close there, didn't ya?" 

Louis turns to find himself seated next to an older man. While the familiar accent is comforting after spending several months in the states, the last thing Louis needs is to spend a nearly 7 hour flight next to someone who won't let him catch up on his sleep.

"Lost track of the time." He informs the man, pulling his headphones out of his carry on. Which isn't a lie, really. He didn't realize Niall would keep on the phone for almost an hour, carrying on about how Liam ordered the wrong color roses for the flower girl's bouquet. He only managed to get him off the phone when Niall overheard the last call for his flight being announced and threatened Louis not to be late. 

Only after the flight attendants make their rounds and the plane is getting ready for take off does Louis finally get comfortable in his seat and let the beautiful lyrics of James Bay lull him to sleep. At least until he's startled awake several hours later.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking. It looks like there's a nasty storm up ahead, so we will be experiencing a fair bit of turbulence. Nothing to worry about, but please stay in your seats." The pilot's voice is followed by two melodic beeps to signify the end of the message.

"Always a nasty storm in Ireland, innit?" The older man chuckles. Before Louis can reply, the plane jolts particularly hard and he's being hit in the face by an oxygen mask thats fallen from its compartment. The terrified shrieks of the other passengers cause him to wince as he looks nervously out the window.

"This is your captain here again, it seems the storm is nastier than we anticipated. We're being directed into Cardiff and Wales seeing as all flights in and out of Dublin have been cancelled."

"Cancelled?" Louis squawks.

"The lovely groundstaff will get you onto connecting flights as soon as possible. Please fasten your seatbelts as we begin our descent."

"It's barely even raining." Louis huffs as the plane lands. The lighting that follows seems to spite him.

He finds a place in line for the connecting flights behind people that seem to be as unhappy as he is. His vibrating pocket alerts him to an incoming phone call from Niall.

"Oh, you answered!" Niall says happily. "Did you land already? What time are you getting here? We can come pick you up if you want, the weather's a bit glum."

Louis laughs. "A bit, yeah. I'm in Wales. All flights into Dublin have been cancelled until tomorrow so I'm going to take a ferry or a cab something."

"Alright, call me when you get here, then! Liam's worried sick cause of the weather."

It takes about fifteen minutes into the ferry ride for Louis to realize a ferry was a very bad idea. The waves are taller than most buildings he's even seen, and that's including the time he just spent in New York City. 

"We're gonna have to pull into Dingle." The captain informs the crew. Everyone nods through their soaked skin and clothes.

"But I need to get to Cork." Louis yells over the roar of the waves.

"You can hitch a ride out of Dingle. There's no way we'll make there in this weather."

Louis huffs for what seems like the billionth time since he's started this trip.

The only silver lining is the quaint little pub he finds in town. It's golden lighting reminds him how cold he actually is once he steps inside.

"Are you open?" Louis asks, approaching the counter of the bar. The man behind it nods, not even looking up. Louis notices the rings adorned on the mans fingers as he fills in a crossword puzzle, though his face is hidden behind a very nice head of brown curls. _Very curly_. Louis thinks to himself.

"Is there a train or a bus or something I could take? I'm trying to get to Dublin."

The stranger behind the bar - Curly, as Louis has come to call him - doesn't acknowledge his question in the slightest. He's about to speak again when a voice comes from his left.

"There hasn't been a bus or a train that's run through Dingle in ages. There should be a number for a taxi service by the pay phone, though." The old man slurs. He smells of whiskey and mildew, but Louis smiles at him nonetheless. 

He dials the number listed for a taxi and sighs at the puddle already forming beneath him. 

"'Lo?"

"Hi, I'm looking for a taxi from Dingle to Dublin? I'm in a cute little pub called the Keurig or something." Louis laughs nervously.

"The Caragh?" The man asks, sounding vaguely annoyed.

"Yes, that's it! Sorry."

"Well we don't drive small Donny men anywhere, sorry to say."

"Excuse me? Where do you get off thinking I'm tiny?" He's about to launch into a rant when he hears several chuckles from the bar. He turns to see Curly has moved from behind the bar to back by the kitchen. He waves, phone in hand, and Louis hangs up with an annoyed sigh.

"Can you take me to Dublin or not?" Louis asks, patience wearing very thin.

"Dublin is full of liars and cheats," Curly informs him. "And I don't very much fancy going there."

"Really?" 

"Not even for five hundred euro."

"Well then could you please direct me to the nearest hotel? I'll find my way tomorrow."

"You're looking at it."

Louis sighs. "Of course. How much for a room then?"

"Hundred euros."

"Grand. I'll take it."

Curly makes a vague "follow me" gesture with his hand so Louis follows him up the stairs to a narrow hallway lined with doors. They stop in front of one of the doors and Curly hands him a key.

Louis uses this brief moment of interaction to actually look at him. He's tall. Like,  _really_ tall. He's got on ridiculous jean shorts and a sheer shirt with some ridiculous floral pattern that's unbuttoned all the way to his stomach to reveal a ridiculous cluster of tattoos on his chest and shoulder, and Louis can see more on his arm underneath the shirt. 

"Ridiculous." Louis mutters under his breath, turning the key in the door.

"Sorry?" Curly asks, turning around.

They make eye contact for probably the first time and Louis noticed he has ridiculously green eyes, which sort of fits because this whole situation is ridiculous if he's being honest. Louis says nothing as he lets himself into the room. He sends out a quick text to Niall to let him know he'll be in Dublin tomorrow and then he lets himself fall asleep to the faint buzzing of the hallway light.

* * *

 

The next morning proves to be equally ridiculous, seeing as he nearly trips over a sandwich on a tray outside his door. He has half a mind to leave it there but his stomach grumbles in protest.

He's on his way downstairs when he hears the tail end of what seems to be an argument.

"I'm serious, Harry. You owe me a thousand euros by the end of the week."

"Jerry, come on. Give me ten days."

"Ten days." He hears the other man agree, followed by the slam of a door.

Louis places the tray on the counter of the bar louder than necessary to alert Curly -  _Harry -_ of his presence. 

"Oh, good. You're awake. Ready to get going?"

"Where am I going exactly?" Louis questions warily.

"To Dublin. I've decided I'll take you to Dublin."

"Really?"

"Really." Harry smiles. "For five hundred euros."

"Fine." Louis agrees, eyebrows raised. "I'll go get my things and I'll meet you outside."

He's just made it outside when Harry pulls around in a beat up old car. "You've got to be kidding me." He mutters.

Louis packs his bags into the boot of the car and gets in without a word. It's only a few hours to Dublin, he can deal with a ridiculous boy in a shit car for a few hours. 

They're about an hour into the trip when Louis breaks the silence.

"So I've been trying to figure you out but I really can't seem to place where your accent is from. It sounds English, but sometimes you say things and you sound just like my mate, Niall."

"I'm from Cheshire, moved to Dingle when I was about sixteen to take over my grandfather's pub." Harry says, not taking his eyes off the road.

Louis studies him for a minute, eyebrows furrowed. "How did you know I was from Donny?"

Harry laughs at that and Louis finds himself smiling. 

"Your accent, mate. Gives you away a bit."

"Fair enough." Louis says with a chuckle. "Wake me when we get there, will you?" Harry doesn't respond but Louis closes his eyes anyway. He's just about to fall asleep when he's jolted forward into the dashboard.

"What the hell?" Louis shouts.

"Cows."

"Excuse me?"

Harry points out the window and Louis follows to where his finger is pointed a huge herd of cows blocking the road.

"Perfect." Louis mutters.

"You mutter a lot." Harry informs him.

"Well I've been having pretty shit luck as of lately, believe it or not. Are you gonna get out and move the cows?"

"Move the cows?" Harry asks him, suppressing a smirk.

"Fine." Louis huffs. "I'll do it myself."

Louis approaches the herd slowly, hands out in front of him as if that'll stop them from crushing him to death.

"You lot are bigger up close." He mutters. "Listen, I've got to get to Dublin in the next two days so I can watch my two best friends get married and I'm stuck in the car with some infuriating man child who can barely hold a conversation. So would you please do me the favor of getting out of the fucking road?"

"I'm not surprised in the slightest that you speak cow." Louis jumps at the sound of Harry's voice behind him.

"Are you going to help me?"

"Not until you wipe that cow shit off your shoe."

Louis looks down to see that there is, indeed, cow shit on his shoe.

"Brilliant." He mutters, leaning against the hood of the car while he wipes the bottom of his shoe on the bumper. He's just about finished when he loses his balance and the car rolls out from beneath him, causing him to land right on his behind.

"Well that fucking hurt." He says to no one in particular, already feeling the bruise forming.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

He turns around to see Harry chasing after his car as it rolls down the hill. By the time he gets up to help he can already see the path the car is heading in; straight down the hill and into the small lake Louis had admired on the way up. He takes off in a sprint after the car but he's too late. They both are. The car breaks the surface of the water with a splash and Louis cringes.

"All my things are in there!" Louis yells.

"That's my fucking car, who gives a shit about your things. You just had to lean your fat arse on my car!" Louis scoffs. "That's what did it! It's gonna cost at least two hundred euros to tow her out, I'll just add that to your bill!"

"Over my dead body." 

Harry lets out a harsh laugh. "There's an idea." 

Louis lets out an insulted gasp before he's stomping into the lake to fetch his things out of the car. Luckily, the lake is only about knee deep so the car isn't so much underwater as it is stuck. 

"The next town over is just a bit of a walk from here. I can call a tow truck and we'll be back on the road in no time." Harry tells him, his anger apparently forgotten. 

Louis doesn't respond, following the road in the direction they were originally headed. He totally doesn't flip off the herd of cows as he passes them and he pretends not to revel in the fact that he definitely heard Harry chuckle over it.

* * *

 

When they finally reach the next town, Louis has a bad feeling when they walk into the pub. Unlike Harry's, this pub is dimly lit and filled with people who look less than pleased over seeing someone they don't recognize.

"I'm gonna take a piss." Harry says dismissively, leaving Louis to approach the bar alone.

"Excuse me, do you have a phone I could use to call a taxi?" Louis asks, his voice sounding as small as he feels.

The large man points silently towards a phone on the wall, currently in use. As Louis gets closer, he notices the man on the phone is obviously intoxicated, mumbling nonsense into the receiver. Louis sighs as he takes his place at a safe distance behind him. 

"Something wrong, twinky?"

Louis feels his blood run cold. He turns around, only to be met with three men's cold stares.

"Sorry?" Louis asks, a small glimmer of hope tells him they weren't referring to him.

"You will be." One man laughs out cruelly.

The first man who spoke, seemingly the leader, takes a step forward. "What brings a faggot like you to our parts?"

"I'm not-"

"Save it. Could tell you were a fairy from the second you walked in. Do you know what happens to fairies here at Big Toms?"

"Do tell." Louis whips his head around to see Harry standing a few paces behind him and then everything goes black.

* * *

 

"Louis?" Everything feels fuzzy, but Louis  _swears_ that's Harry's voice. "Louis are you awake?"

"What happened?" He mumbles, becoming aware of the fact that he's being jostled around.

"You passed out." Harry laughs. Louis opens his eyes only to realize he's outside and Harry's carrying him like a baby and sporting a bloody lip.

"Why are you carrying me? Put me down!" Louis demands, straightening out his clothes once his feet are on the ground.

"You passed out in that pub so I carried you until you woke up."

"Your lip is bleeding." Louis points out, following behind Harry.

"You should see the other guys." Harry chuckles. "Got into it with the guys who were picking on you. Couldn't call us a taxi, though. Kinda got us thrown out."

"Do you mean to tell me that you left me laying on the floor of the pub while you-"

"You could just say thank you." Harry says stonily, cutting him off.

"I'll thank you when we get to Dublin." Louis retorts, quickening their pace.

After a several hours of walking, Louis spots a train station. His mood improves drastically as he makes his way to the booth. He'd spent the whole walk trying to imagine how someone like Harry managed to take on three men in a pub fight and only come out with a bloody lip. It's sort of impressive, though Louis would rather walk the whole way to Dublin than ask for the full story. Fainting is embarrassing enough, he doesn't need Harry to think he actually appreciates him. 

"Hi," Louis says cheerily as he approaches the ticketing booth. "I need a train to Dublin."

"Just in time!" The older woman says in a thick accent. "The next train to Dublin leaves in two hours and twenty-three minutes."

"Great!" Louis smiles, handing the woman some cash and taking a seat on the bench beside the station.

"Ballycarbery" Harry says as he takes a seat next to Louis.

"Same to you." 

"No," Harry laughs. "Ballycarbery Castle." He nods towards the run down stone buildings at the top of the hill. "Can't be more than fifteen minutes to the top."

Louis smiles despite himself. "I'll stay here, thanks. But you go ahead. Don't wanna miss the train."

"No, you're right. Only two and a half hours til the train comes. Times just gonna fly by. No time to explore one of the ten wonders of Ireland. Suit yourself." Harry gets up, using Louis' leg as leverage to push himself up.

"Ouch." Louis mutters, rubbing his thigh. Harry pulls a funny face and Louis can't help but laugh. "Alright, fine." Louis says, standing up. "I love castles."

The trek to the top probably would have only taken fifteen minutes if it wasn't so damn muddy, so it actually takes about forty-five. 

"I'm sorry it's taking so long to get to Dublin." Harry says suddenly.

"It's alright. Although my phone got destroyed when my fat arse pushed your car into the lake so my mates are probably going crazy wondering where I am."

Harry laughs at that. "It was a compliment!" Louis shoots him a look. "Sort of."

"Right." Louis smirks, shaking his head.

They're about halfway to the top when Harry turns to him excitedly. "Want to play a game?"

"If you're about to ask me to race you to the top of this hill, my answer is no."

Harry laughs again, loud and sincere. "No. It's more of a question than a game, actually."

"Lay it on me."

"Alright, if your apartment was on fire, what would you take?"

"What kind of question is that?" Louis asks, taken back by the question.

"If you had sixty seconds, what would you take? Your fancy iPhone, or your cute little puppy? Or your family portrait above the fireplace between bottles of expensive wines?"

"I'm not playing this game with you." Louis replies sternly. 

"Louis I-"

"What would you take, huh?" Louis asks, quickening his pace up the hill. "Your lovely pub is on fire, what're you gonna take? You've got sixty seconds, Harry! What are you gonna grab?"

"I know exactly what I'd grab." Harry answers, obviously annoyed by Louis' mockery.

"What then?"

"I'm not telling you." He says matter of factly, broadening his steps so that its nearly impossible for Louis to keep pace. 

"Oh, so he can dish it but he can't take it." Louis mutters, allowing himself to fall behind. "Bloody long legs."

When they finally reach the top of the hill, Louis is in awe. The stone structures looked run down from the bottom of the hill. But up close he can tell that everything is still pretty much in tact.

"It's a real castle." He whispers, mostly to himself.

"Told you." Harry sing songs.

"So what's the story with this place?" Louis asks, following the path that leads them through what's left of the gorgeous architecture. 

"Hundreds of years ago, there was this beautiful princess called Grainne. She was promised to marry this guy called Fionn. He was kind of a cranky old warlord, old enough to be her grandfather, so she wasn't in love with him. On the night of their betrothal, she met handsome young warrior, Diarmuid. They fell madly in love at first sight."

Louis scoffs. "How cliche."

"Do you want me to tell you the story or not?" Harry asks defensively, just as they've reached the stairs of the castle.

Louis motions for him to continue.

"Right then. So she slips a sleeping potion in everyone's drinks and the pair of them run off together. Fionn wakes, and realizes Grainne's gone and he goes mental. So he takes his army and heads off in hot pursuit. But it was the people, you know, the people in the villages of Ireland, they took pity on Diarmuid and Grainne. They hid them in forests and in their barns and castles, where they'd sleep one night and then they'd move on. Diarmuid, good man that he was, didn't take it any further than just sleeping."

"What a good man." Louis laughs, breathless after climbing the dozens of stairs to the top of the castle.

"But then they came to this castle, and this view." Harry continues, looking out over the miles and miles of green gras and sparkling lakes. "It's said, you know, that they were unable to resist such beauty here, in this very place, that they consummated their love."

Louis looks out at the view, unable to speak, let alone process the ending of the story.

"Oh my god." Louis whispers. "You're hitting on me."

"What?" Harry shouts, voice cracking. 

"I'm the beautiful princess unable to resist the handsome stranger." Louis is laughing now. "You didn't honestly think that was going to work, did you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, mate. It's a true story. I sure as shit wasn't talking about you." 

"Oh, no?" Louis asks with fake curiosity. 

"No! You arrogant f-" 

Harry's insult is cut off by the sound of the train pulling into the station below. Louis' eyes go comically wide, except its not really comical at all because minutes later its pouring down rain and he's slipping and rolling down the hill and into the mud just in time to watch the train leave the station.

"You just had to take me up there, didn't you?" Louis yells, his voice almost drowned out by the thunder

"Lou, I'm-"

"I hate you." Louis says, but there's no venom behind it.

"In the old days I could've held it for you." The woman informs them once they reach the platform. "Don't worry, boys. Why don't you come to mine for the evening and we'll get you to where you need to go tomorrow?"

"Thank you." Louis smiles, not bothering to look at Harry the whole walk back.

"George?" The woman - Barbara, as she introduced herself - calls as they enter the small cottage. 

"Brought home some stragglers, did you?"

"These two boys here missed the train today, do we have any spare rooms for them?"

"Just the one." George says cheerfully. "Not a problem, though, is it?"

"Not at all." Harry cuts in, speaking for the first time in a while." "Thank you very much for your hospitality."

"No problem at all, dear." Barbara assures him with a smile. "George'll take you to your room and I'll get dinner started."

All of Louis' dreams of there being two beds in the room are crushed as soon as he steps inside. 

"The bed's a bit small, not that you two will mind." George says with a wink, before he's off back down the stairs.

"I'm taking a shower." Louis mutters, making his way to the bathroom and letting the warm water wash away all the mud and rain. He momentarily debates having a quick wank before deciding against it. He exits the bathroom to find Harry asleep, sprawled out across the bed.

"If you're going to sleep like that, you can sleep on the floor." 

Harry gave no indication that he was even the tiniest bit awake, nor that he heard Louis speak at all. The bathroom was quite small, so Louis took his chances and changed into his clean clothes in the middle of the room, making sure to keep his back to Harry in case he decided to wake up. Louis had just pulled on his shirt when there was a knock at the door.

"Dinner's ready, loves." Barbara's voice said, following the knock.

Louis turned to wake Harry and saw him sitting up in bed, a smile plastered on his face.

"You cheeky little shit." Louis whispered, feeling his face heat up.

Harry just winked and climbed out of bed, pinching Louis' hip before following Barbara down the stairs. After a few minutes of collecting himself, Louis joined everyone downstairs.

"There he is!" George shouted, drawing everyone's attention to Louis. "Your boy's just helping Barbara in the kitchen."

"My what?" 

"Your boyfriend." A woman with dark hair was smiling at him, her hand intertwined with who Louis assumed to be her husband. There was another female couple at the table beside them, both with blonde hair.

"He was telling us all about you while he set the table." One of the blonde women chuckled. "You two are very cute."

"Aren't we?" Harry sing-songed, entering the dining room.

"Louis, there you are." Barbara cooed, her face beaming. "These are the rest of the guests staying with us. There's Trisha and her husband, Owen. And then Jade and her girlfriend, Mary."

"We saved you a seat next to Harry, of course." Mary smiled.

They all kept smiling at him as he took his seat. He looked to Harry for answers, but he was too busy carrying the food in from the kitchen. Soon the table was adorned with a giant bowl of chicken stew, mashed potatoes, and three different fruit pies.

"Louis you've got to try the apple pie Harry made, it's delicious." Jade said excitedly, once everyone's dinner plates had been cleared. By Harry, of course.

"I didn't know you baked." Louis whispered, low enough that only Harry could hear.

"Oh, as if he doesn't know all about Harry and his pies." Mary teased.

Louis blushed at the implication, but cut himself a piece of apple pie nonetheless. He brought a bite up to his mouth, fully aware of Harry watching him, and made quite a show of pulling the fork from his mouth. The moan that escaped him, however, was completely unplanned. The pie was fucking amazing. Louis tells him so and revels in the way Harry blushes and adjusts his pants. 

He knows Harry's been eyeing his ass the whole trip, is the thing. Between the comment about his fat arse pushing the car into the lake, and pretending to be asleep upstairs just to get Louis to change in front of him, he feels like he deserves to have an awkward boner at the dinner table. 

Trisha and Owen excuse themselves from the table first, and Louis follows suit. Harry, of course, stays to help clear the table and wash the dishes. Louis is about to change into some sweats when the door clicks open.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Harry ducks his head as he enters the room.

"You didn't scare me. You just...surprised me. You keep doing that."

"I'm gonna take a shower."

"Good. You smell." Louis teases playfully. Harry sticks his tongue out before disappearing into the bathroom.

With his sweatpants on, Louis climbs into the bed, careful to leave plenty of room for Harry. He's almost glad they have to share a bed. Sure, Harry's annoying and rude at the best of times, and Louis wouldn't even be in this mess if it wasn't for him. But he's also funny, and kind, and pretty.  _God,_ is he pretty. Maybe it's because Louis hasn't gotten laid in a while, or maybe it's because he watched Harry get a boner over him enjoying a slice of pie, but Louis wouldn't mind if the bed was a little smaller. 

Unfortunately, his exhaustion gets the best of him and he's asleep before Harry's out of the shower. If he'd been awake, he'd have seen the way Harry's face softened as he exited the bathroom. The way he smiled at Louis's sleeping form, and even dared to press a kiss to the smaller boys forehead.

Louis does, however, wake up with Harry's arm draped over him protectively. If he slides back to press their bodies together before drifting back to sleep, nobody has to know.

* * *

The next morning, Louis wakes up to an empty bed. He makes his way downstairs in search of a phone. He finds one in the living room and dials Niall's number.

"Hello?" Niall answers on the third ring.

"Niall, it's me."

"Louis! Where the hell are ya, mate? Liam was about ready to send out a search party. You do know the weddings tomorrow, don't you?"

"I know. I'm sorry I'm not there already, you have no idea what I've been through." Louis says with a laugh.

Harry silently makes his way towards the living room with a tray full of a homemade breakfast, following the sound of Louis's voice talking animatedly.

"No, Niall, he's infuriating. If I could make it to Dublin on my own, I would."

And, okay. Sure, they haven't exactly gotten along, but that hurt. 

"Sounds like you're in love, Louis." Niall laughs.

"Shut up. I'll see you soon. Love you."

Louis hangs up and Harry quickly retreats back to the kitchen, setting the tray on the counter.

"Morning." Louis says cheerily. "This for me?" He ask, motioning towards the breakfast.

Harry shrugs noncommittally.

"You're such a peach." Louis smiles, ruffling Harry's hair.

"Morning lovebirds." George greets them happily. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Off to Dublin for me." Louis says through a mouthful of toast.

"Well you can't do that now." George informs them. 

"Why not?"

"It's a Sunday! No trains on a Sunday."

"You're kidding me." Louis can feel himself deflating.

"Afraid not."

"I have to be in Dublin by tomorrow, my best mates are getting married. Have you got a car I could borrow? I'll pay you whatever you'd like." Louis offers, ignoring Harry's squawk in protest.

"It's not the money. Barbara's got the car today. She's gone to mass, then the weekly shops. Won't be back til the late hours, it's a fair old trip to Dublin."

"She's in Dublin?" Louis practically shouts, shooting daggers at Harry.

"Course! Didn't Harry tell you?"

"No." Louis mutters. "He didn't. But if you'll excuse me, I've got to get my stuff together so I can be on my way."

Louis maintains his composure until he reaches his room, where he then proceeds to scream into a pillow for a few minutes.

"Lou?" Harry enters the room quietly. Louis doesn't acknowledge him as he exits the room, even as Harry calls out his name again.

"You can't just walk all the way to Dublin, Louis."

"Honestly, Harry. I'm not missing my best mates wedding because I got stuck with a wanker of a companion, alright. Follow me or don't follow me, but I'm getting to Dublin." And with that, Louis is out the door, Harry in tow. 

"There's a bus station a little bit down the road." Harry informs him, not that Louis has acknowledged his other attempts at conversation. "Are you going to ignore me the whole time? I forgot Barbara had mentioned going to Dublin, alright? I'm sorry!"

Louis scoffs. 

The first time he feels it, he sighs. If Harry wants to resort to throwing things at him, that's fine. But Louis is not going to give him the satisfaction of a response. After the fourth time of being pelted in the head, though, Louis has had enough.

"Can you cut it out?" Louis shouts, taking Harry by surprise.

"What?"

"Stop throwing things at me."

"Louis I'm not-" But before Harry can finish, the hail storm is in full swing, pelting down on them as they try to seek shelter.

Between the running and how hard they're both laughing, they're completely breathless as they burst through the doors of a nearby church and into the middle of a wedding ceremony.

"Have you any reason why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy matrimony?" The priest asks, his confusion matching the faces of the guests lining the pews.

"No, no, Father." Harry laughs nervously.

"Well, then." The priest smiles. "Welcome! Have a seat."

"Thank you." Louis nods.

The two of them spend the rest of the ceremony suppressing giggles, their previous fight forgotten. Afterwards, the bride, Eliza, invites them to the reception party.

* * *

The weather cleared up beautifully by the time the reception rolled around, set under a big tent at the top of a hill. 

"Come on, Dublin! We're burning daylight." Harry teases, handing Louis a drink from the open bar.

"The priest says he's gonna give us a ride to the bus station after the reception."

"We can walk, Louis."

"I'm not walking another four hours in these shoes, Harry." Louis argues, taking a sip of his drink. "Besides, look how beautiful it all is."

"I kind of hate weddings." Harry mumbles, playing with the rings on his fingers.

"How could you possibly hate weddings? Are people in love that offensive to you?" 

"Yeah." Harry says sarcastically.

"You know, you have some bad opinions to match your bad attitude. What do you know? You're clearly not married, so you've obviously never been engaged."

"Actually, I have." Harry says with a fake smile before polishing off his drink.

"Hi everyone." Eliza giggles, the microphone amplifying her voice. "I hate to interrupt a good party, but I want to say thank you to all of you for coming. And to my husband, may you never steal, lie, or cheat. But if you must steal, then steal away my sorrows. And if you must lie, lie with me all the nights of my life. And if you must cheat, then cheat death because I couldn't live a day without you." The chorus of aww's that precede the applause almost mask the sound of Harry's departure from the tent. "Cheers."

"Well don't I feel like an arse." Louis mutters to what's left of his drink.

He gives Harry a few minutes to himself before he goes looking for him. He finds him overlooking a small beach, holding a bottle he must've swiped from behind the bar.

"Are you alright?" Louis asks hesitantly, not sure how mad Harry still is at him.

"M'fine. It was just getting stuffy in there."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Louis offers, taking a seat next to him in the grass. 

"Just have a drink and shut up." Harry mumbles, offering up the bottle.

"I'm just trying to help." Louis sighs, taking a swig.

"You're the one who needs help. Can't go three seconds into a conversation without offending someone."

"Whatever, Harry. I'll find you when the reception's over. Have fun sitting outside by yourself." And then he's stomping away, back to the party.

About an hour later, after the sun has set, Louis finds himself being joined again by Harry at the table.

"I'm not good at weddings." Harry mumbles.

"They're better with a couple bottles of tequila." Louis jokes, earning a laugh from the taller boy. 

"Do you wanna dance?" 

"With you?"

"Yes, Louis, with me." Harry laughs again, nervous this time.

"Sure."

They make their way to the dance floor, the rhythm of an old Irish folk song playing loudly throughout the tent. As soon as they make their way to the middle of the floor, however, the song changes to a slower ballad.

"We don't have to-"

"It's fine, Harry." Louis assures him, placing his arms delicately around the taller boys neck. "I'm better at slow dancing, anyway."

Harry smiles as he places his hands on Louis's hips, pulling the smaller boys body closer to his. Louis can smell the whiskey on his breath, faintly covered by the mint Harry had been chewing on moments before. 

"Your eyes are pretty." Harry whispers. They're so close now, Louis can feel the breath from Harry's words ghosting over his face. Where his lips always that pink?

"You're pretty." Louis mutters and, okay. Where did that come from? He's definitely had too much to drink. 

The song ends far too soon and another, more up beat one, takes its place. The distance between them gradually gets bigger, though Louis doesn't know which one of them is moving until suddenly they're outside and Harry is giggling through sips from a bottle of champagne. 

"You're supposed to be taking me to Dublin." Louis slurs out, grabbing the bottle from Harry's large hands.

"Just tell me when. I, as your humble servant, await."

"That quite enough of that, Harry. Don't be such a beast."

"A beast?" Harry questions through a giggle, taking back the bottle and pressing it to his lips.

"Yes. You're a beast. And I cannot stand you." Louis's voice is barely a whisper now. 

"Really?" Harry asks with a smirk. Louis turns to face him, then, and almost topples over. Harry catches him, though. Of course he does. And just like that, they're face to face.

"You know what, I'm onto you." Louis says with little conviction, bringing his arms up to rest his hands on Harry's broad chest.

"Is that right?" Harry laughs, pulling them closer together, his arm snaked round Louis's waist.

"All your beastyness is an act. It's a cover up. You growl and you bite but you're in pain. You've got a big thorn in your beasty paw." Louis giggles at himself. "Like a lion, you are. A lovely, lovely lion." And this is it, Louis can feel it. This is the moment he's been waiting for. He's going to kiss Harry. He can feel it right in the pit of his stomach. It feels a lot like he's going to be sick, their lips only inches apart. And then, suddenly, he's Cady Heron about to kiss Aaron Samuels and he's mixed up between the feeling of word vomit and actual vomit because he's actually vomiting on Harry's shoes.

Perfect. How romantic.

* * *

 

Louis wakes up the next morning on a bench at the bus station, his head in Harry's lap. He gets up slowly, careful not to wake him and places the jacket that was draped over him across the taller boys chest.

Moments later, Harry is startled awake by the sound of a bus pulling away form the curb. He notices the jacket laid across his chest and the lack of a very small person in his lap.

"You're kidding me." Harry nearly cries, staring longingly at the bus that undoubtedly has Louis on it on his way to Dublin. He buries his face in his hands and wills himself not to cry.

"Rough night?" A voice asks, followed by the strong smell of coffee.

"Louis?" Harry whips his head around, eyes wide.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Harry laughs, shaking his head. "I woke up and you were gone and I thought..."

"You didn't honestly think I'd leave you, did you?" Louis smiles fondly, ruffling the mess of unruly curls on Harry's head.

"I guess not." Harry looks down, embarrassed. "We missed our bus."

"There's another one in twenty minutes." 

"Oh god. Am I still coming with you?"

"I am paying you to take me to Dublin, so you're taking me to Dublin."

"Whatever you say, Pukey." Harry teases, earning him a punch on the shoulder.

They make it to Dublin with four hours to spare before the wedding. 

"It really is a beautiful city." Louis sighs, stopping to enjoy the view form a bridge overlooking a small river. "And I haven't seen a single liar or cheat since we got here."

"He's here, isn't he?" Louis says after a beat.

"Who?"

"Don't insult me, Harry. The guy. The one you were engaged to. He's in Dublin."

"Yeah. Along with my best mate that he ran off with." Harry laughs bitterly, tossing a rock into the water below them.

"I'm sorry." 

"You know that thing I'd grab if I had sixty seconds? My mother's claddagh ring. He's got it."

"Well, you're here now. You should get it back."

Harry scoffs at that. "I dunno. Anyway, I thought it was your mates ring we should be worrying about. How long until the wedding?"

"A few hours, there'll be an ATM at the hotel so I can pay you."

"Oh, right." Harry laughs lightly, shaking the hair out of his eyes. "To the hotel, then."

Louis is met in the lobby by a crowd of people all anxiously awaiting his arrival.

"You shit, the weddings in a few hours and you've not even shown up in your tux." Niall shouts at him while Liam's got him trapped in a bear hug. "And you must be Harry." Niall smirks. "I hope you've got something other than that to wear."

"Sorry?"

"To the wedding, of course!"

Harry laughs nervously. "Oh, I didn't realize-"

"Harry's not really a big fan of weddings. I've just got to pay him and then he'll be off." Louis interjects.

"Nonsense, Lou." Liam chimes in. "You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. Harry, you're more than welcomed to stay. And don't listen to Niall, what you're wearing is fine."

"Isn't it bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding?" Louis jokes, trying to change the subject.

"I don't see a bride anywhere, you twat. Are ya staying, Harry?"

Theres a beat of silence. And then, "Sure. Yeah, I'll stay."

"Yeah?" Louis whispers.

"Yeah."

"Great! It's settled, then. Louis needed a date, anyways." Niall winks. "Me and Liam got to get going but we'll see you there!" Niall calls, pressing a wet kiss to Louis's cheek before making his way outside, Liam trailing behind him.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to." Louis says quietly, once he's checked into his room.

"No, it's fine. I want to."

"Alright well your money's in this envelope." Louis smiles. "Eight hundred euros."

"Louis, we agreed on five." Harry says sternly.

"Yes but there were those overnight charges and stuff. Plus, you need a thousand by the end of the week and it's the least I could do."

Harry doesn't say anything, just closes the gab between them and presses their mouths together.

 _Finally_. Louis thinks.

Harry tastes like stale coffee and blueberry muffin and Louis has never tasted anything better. 

"Been wanting to do that for ages." Harry mumbles, their lips brushing as he speaks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now go shower, you smell and we've got a wedding to get to."

* * *

The wedding is perfect, of course. Louis wipes away his tears during their vows and Harry only makes fun of him for it a little. The reception is held in the ball room of the hotel and its decorated beautifully. White and red roses accent the tables and the giant wedding cake stands in the center of the room.

Louis is on his way back to his table from the bar when he sees him. He can feel his heart speed up, which is a completely normal reaction to have when you see the ex you lived with for four years, who left you for another man and got married a few months later. _A little warning would have been nice, though, Niall._

"Zayn? What're you doing here?"

"Louis, hey. How are you? You look good."

"Thanks. What are you doing here?"

Zayn laughs. "Niall didn't tell you he invited me?"

"No, he didn't. Are you here with Mark?" Louis asks, feeling comforted by the fact that it doesn't cause him pain to talk about him anymore.

"We, uh, got divorced, actually."

"Oh, sorry." Louis says, trying to sound sincere. "Well I've got to get back to-"

"Could I talk to you outside for a second, actually? I was hoping I'd run into you."

"Sure, I've got a minute." Louis agrees reluctantly. 

"So, I've been thinking." Zayn starts once they're alone. "I royally fucked things up with you. Which is the understatement of the century, really. But things with Mark, I thought it was good, you know? We were going to adopt, start a family together. Turns out he'd been planning on leaving me for someone else. I caught them together and it made me realize I never should have left you."

"Zayn-"

"I've thought about you every day, Louis."

"You're drunk."

"I love you." 

Louis's laugh is cut off by Zayn's lips on his as his body is pressed between Zayn's and the wall. It lasts all of about five seconds before Louis is pushing him off and throwing his drink on him before returning inside. 

"Louis, mate. I'm married!" Niall greets him, slinging an arm over his shoulder. 

"You invited Zayn?"

"Liam did!" Niall giggles. "My _husband_  thought it would be good for you two to see each other."

"Well your husband and I are going to have words tomorrow because he just assaulted my face with his lips outside on the terrace."

"Liam?"

"No, Niall. Zayn."

"Well that'd be good news if it wasn't for Harry."

"Yeah." Louis laughs. "Speaking of, have you seen him? I went to get us drinks but then Zayn sidetracked me and now I don't see him."

"No, mate. Good luck, though. I'm gonna go snog my husband." 

Louis laughs as he returns to his designated table. "Have you guys seen Harry?" He asks the few people still seated.

"Think he was calling it a night."

"Yeah, left a little bit ago."

Louis smiles to himself as he collects his jacket, picturing Harry asleep in his bed. The thought of curling up next to him and falling asleep together keeps him from picking a couch in the lobby to fall asleep on.

"Harry, are you awake? I stole champagne." Louis slurs, bumping into the dresser as he flicks on the light. The bed is empty and so is the couch and the bathroom.

"Harry?" Louis calls out into the hallway. Nothing. He turns slowly to the bedside table where he placed the envelope with Harry's money in it.

"He's gone." Louis whispers to the empty room. A few sips from the bottle is all he manages before he falls asleep, still dressed in his tux.

* * *

"I don't even have his number, Niall." Louis says, frantic. "He just took the money and left. That's not like him, something must've happened."

"Maybe he's not who you thought he was." Liam suggests quietly.

"Don't you dare." Louis threatens. "Just don't. He saw me with Zayn, I know it. He saw Zayn kiss me and he left. Fuck."

"You don't know that." Niall assures him. "Maybe he went to see some friends and passed out on their couch."

"Well it's not like I can call him and ask him, can I?" Louis sighs, throwing himself onto the hotel bed. "Maybe it's for the best. We wouldn't have worked out, anyway. He owns a pub in Dingle and I live in an apartment in Manhattan."

"Niall, our plane leaves in two hours." 

"Go on your damn honeymoon." Louis demands. "I'm fine, I swear. Go have fun being married."

"Love you." Niall mumbles, pecking Louis's cheek.

"Love you, go enjoy Paris."

The door shuts behind them and Louis is left alone in the silent room with a warm bottle of champagne and a suitcase full of dirty clothes.

A few hours later he books a flight back to New York and tries not to think about anything else.

When he finally gets home, he sleeps for almost three days straight, only waking up to eat a few crackers and drink a bottle of water. On the fourth day, the lady who lives above him burns a green bean casserole and sets off the fire alarm for the whole building. Louis stands there in the middle of his apartment, the fire alarm ringing in his ears.

_If your apartment was on fire, what would you take?_

He grabs his wallet and his passport and heads straight to the airport.

* * *

After a nerve racking plane and ferry ride to Dingle, Louis finds himself standing outside the Caragh, trying to work up the nerve to go in. 

"Just do it, Louis. Just walk in." 

He does. 

Everything looks the same, save for the fact that its filled with people for the dinnertime rush. He sees the familiar mop of curly hair behind the bar, though, and with a deep breath, makes his way over.

"Are you open?" Louis asks once he reaches the bar.

Harry looks up and Louis feels like he's on fire. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Which, okay. Not the welcome he was expecting.

"Harry." Louis sighs, his voice breaking.

"Is Zayn with you?"

"What? No. Harry, what you saw-"

"I didn't see anything, Louis." His voice is filled with bitterness.

"Look, some lady in my building burnt her green bean casserole last night and she set off the fire alarm for the whole building."

"Louis, I really don't care about-"

"Just let me finish, alright?" Louis begs. "She set off the fire alarm for the whole building and when my sixty seconds where up I realized I had nothing worth saving. Because it was here." Louis sighs, pushing back tears. "You. You were here." 

Their eyes are locked and Louis can hardly breathe but Harry isn't stopping him so he's going to keep talking until he either kicks him out or kisses him. And he's hoping for the latter.

"I came all this way to see if you maybe felt the same way. Because for the first time in my life I don't feel the need to plan everything out because the only thing I care about is whether or not you want to be with me. So, Harry, while I should probably learn your last name, would you like to not make plans with me?"

Harry's been fiddling with the rings on his fingers since Louis started his speech. A few times he looks like he's about to say something, but he doesn't. And eventually, he turns around and walks back behind the bar and disappears into the kitchen.

And that's, well. That's it, isn't it?

"I guess that's an Irish no." Louis jokes for the sake of his audience, which consists of the entire pub who had tuned into the conversation since he entered.

He makes his way outside, the cool breeze a welcomed contrast to the hot tears falling form his eyes. He's not even sure where he's going at this point. Suppose he should get a ride back to the airport so he can go home and pretend this never happened. He finds himself at the pier where the ferry docks, waiting for the next ride back to Wales. He can just see it in the distance when he hearts the sound of feet slapping against the wooden dock.

"Lou? Where are you going?"

"Back home, Harry." Louis mutters, wiping his tears before turning around. "You said no."

"I didn't say no." Harry laughs. "I didn't say anything."

"You walked away."

"I was getting something." Harry smiles, stepping closer.

"And you thought that was the perfect time to go get something?" Louis asks, rolling his eyes. 

"Well, yeah. I was getting this." Harry says softly, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a ring.

"Is that-"

"I wouldn't be holding this ring if it wasn't for you."

"Harry," Louis breathes. "That's-"

"But your whole speech was ridiculous." And, okay. "I don't wanna not make plans with you. I wanna  _make_ plans with you."

"You do?" Louis asks, closing the gap between them completely.

"I do." Harry laughs, reaching down to hold the smaller boys face in his hands, before pressing their mouths together.

Later, Harry will give Louis the ring as a promise to never leave him again. And Louis will kiss him and promise to never steal anything but his sorrows, lie anywhere but beside him, or cheat anything but death. Eventually, they'll take a honeymoon road trip to Dublin and they'll only get lost twice. Louis will sell his New York City apartment and use the money to remodel the Caragh that they'll both run together and eventually pass onto their two kids.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos always welcome!


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